


The Odd Couple

by The_Asset6



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:26:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Asset6/pseuds/The_Asset6
Summary: Edward Elric had become the youngest state alchemist in history. He had traveled the world, bested gods, and tread where no man ever had before. So, his own honeymoon was nothing to be afraid of. Right?





	The Odd Couple

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a remarkably different story from what I usually write. I hope you enjoy it! As for "End of an Era," I am currently working on chapter three and should be updating it within the next few days.

_Okay. Come on. This is no big deal. You can do this._

Ed pulled in a deeper breath than was probably necessary and held it tight, glaring into the corner of the room and wishing that he could be anywhere else. Well, maybe not _anywhere_ , but it was a close call. He would have felt more comfortable fighting a homunculus than facing down the herculean task that he’d been set—or, rather, that he’d unintentionally set for himself. Sometimes, he really did wonder if Al and Winry had a point. Maybe he _was_ an idiot.

Not for what he’d done today. Oh, no. He’d never regret that as long as he lived, even if his face heated up at the mere thought until he was positive that he was the same shade as the tomatoes ripening on the vines of that farm down the road. Of everything he’d accomplished in his life, he figured that had to be pretty close to the top of the list. The only downside was that it had led him here, but overall the sacrifice was worthwhile.

Marrying Winry hadn’t been a mistake. He just…didn’t know how to proceed with what came next.

That in itself was laughable. Edward Elric had become the youngest state alchemist in history. He had traveled the world, bested gods, and tread where no man ever had before. So, his own honeymoon was nothing to be afraid of. Right?

 _R-Right_ , Ed thought, closing his eyes and willing away the nervous nausea that had been periodically plaguing him ever since the last of the guests had gone and left nothing but their well-wishes behind.

In hindsight, this was all Mustang’s fault. What had he been thinking, inviting that bastard to the ceremony in the first place? He should have known that nothing good would come of it—in fact, he _had_ known. That hadn’t stopped Winry from forcing the issue, though. According to her, they _owed him_ for all the _help_ he’d been over the years. The way she told it, Ed would have thought that he had his arm back and Al had regained his body purely because Brigadier General Roy Mustang was some kind of hero. A lesser man would have bristled at her obvious admiration and pointed out that that had been _Ed’s_ doing, not his former commanding officer, but he’d held his tongue for a change. After all, there was a tiny part of him that hated to admit she wasn’t entirely wrong. If Mustang hadn’t provided the opening for him to take the state alchemist exam in spite of his age, he and Al might still be in the same place they were after their human transmutation had gone horribly wrong. Call him crazy, but Ed preferred having operable limbs and a brother that didn’t clank when he walked. Regardless, he might have figured out that the military was an option for himself. Once he’d…stopped wallowing. It just would have taken longer, that was all. Mustang could have the credit for getting his butt out of that wheelchair and onto the trail of the philosopher’s stone quicker. That was all the ground Ed was willing to cede.

To his ego, anyway. Something about Winry had always made it difficult to stand his ground. When he did, she somehow ended up getting the better of him nevertheless, oftentimes without even winning whatever argument they were having.

So, they’d invited the bastard to the wedding. He’d shown up in his pristine military uniform (the fancy one rather than the one he avoided all his paperwork in) with Colonel Hawkeye and the rest of his team. Oh, and he’d brought Armstrong with him, of course. Because no special occasion was complete without a shirtless mammoth waxing poetic about the virtues of true love and the benefits of a healthy marriage on a guy’s…whatever. Ed had tuned him out by that point in favor of mentally shuffling through the train schedule. The sooner they got his former comrades in arms out of Resembool, the better.

Fortunately, that had been the extent of their guests from Central. The rest of the affair was actually pretty quiet. Some familiar faces they’d known since they were born showed up to watch and joke about how they never would have guessed that the two of them would end up together; Teacher and Sig had made the journey from Dublith. A few of the acquaintances he and Al had made around Amestris over the years were there as well. The retinue from Xing was the most surprising part, and Ed had to smirk a bit at the memory of the reaction to their arrival. It wasn’t often that Resembool’s native population played host to an emperor, and he didn’t think they were going to recover from the shock for years to come. Still, they’d played a relatively small role in the proceedings. The majority of the congregation was comprised of Winry’s adoring fans from Rush Valley, which made Ed unspeakably glad that his remaining auto-mail wasn’t very visible. The last thing he wanted on what was supposed to be the best day of his life was to be hounded about maintenance and lighter models and durability and all the other stuff he let Winry take care of so that he wouldn’t have to. Hey, he knew his strengths, and metal appendages? Not one of them.

Unless you counted destroying them by using them as makeshift weapons, in which case he had it on good authority from his wife that he was an expert.

His…wife…

_Right…_

Ed swallowed hard, trying and failing to forget what Mustang had told him about all that. Or asked, really. That was a conversation he had a sinking suspicion he wasn’t going to forget anytime soon.

“So,” the brigadier general had lilted, leaning against the door frame and watching Al maneuver Ed’s tie into something resembling a bow. Two hands or not, there was some stuff he was never going to get right. “It’s hard to believe that you’re actually settling down, Fullmetal.”

Narrowing his eyes into the best glare he could muster when his little brother was choking the life out of him with satin, Ed had retorted, “Who said I’m settling down?”

“Well, that’s the general idea. Or do you plan on leaving your wife here alone while you gallivant all over the country?”

As much as Ed had wanted to argue that he could be independent _and_ married at the same time, Mustang’s rebuke was like a double punch to the gut. He _had_ thought a lot about what it would mean for his time to travel once the wedding was over, but something about hearing it put like that was…difficult. In his head, he’d seen it differently. Winry had always waited for him to come home no matter how long it took; it wasn’t as if she didn’t have plenty to keep her busy in the meantime or her own life to live. When those words combined, however… When he thought about _leaving_ in terms of leaving a _wife_ behind…

Maybe even _kids_ one day…

All he could see was a towering silhouette against the light outside their front door.

But Mustang didn’t need to know that, so Ed had swallowed his discomfort before the bastard could see it. The look Al had shot him indicated that he had obviously caught on, but that was _Al_. The two of them practically shared a brain, so he didn’t count.

“Pretty sure Winry’ll be begging me to go before you know it,” Ed had deflected instead. “I’ll probably drive her crazy if I hang around too long.”

Smirking, Mustang had joked, “I guess it’ll be a short honeymoon for you two, then.”

And that was about the moment when all of Ed’s thoughts and internal organs had screeched to a halt.

“H-H-Honey… Honeymoon?”

Surprisingly, it was Al who had laughed and remarked, “Brother, don’t tell me you forgot all about it?”

“I-I didn’t!”

“It sure sounds like you did.”

“I didn’t!” he’d reiterated, louder that time as though it would make up for the fact that…he sort of _had_. If the silent exchange between his brother and Mustang was any indication, then he hadn’t fooled either of them.

Sadly, it had been the latter who believed he should weigh in on the situation. As usual.

“Fullmetal,” Mustang had begun slowly, his cautious yet firm cadence sending Ed back to a time when he was standing before a desk receiving orders he definitely didn’t want, “you _do_ know what typically happens on your wedding night, don’t you?”

Sure, he did. He wasn’t a child—he was twenty-four years old! He’d been the one to ask Winry, albeit indirectly, to be his wife. Of course he knew what adults did…when they got married…and stuff…

What he and Winry were going to…have to…

“Uh, Brother? You don’t look so good.”

“He’s twitching.”

“Ed, maybe you should sit down.”

“Did he seriously _not know_ ab—”

 _That_ jumpstarted his brain again. Before Ed had realized what he was doing, he was backing away from his brother and Mustang with his hands waving in the air and a bunch of incoherent excuses issuing from his mouth. Even now, hours afterward, he couldn’t remember for the life of him what he’d been saying. Assuring Al that he was okay? Telling Mustang where he could shove the rest of that statement? Reciting all the elements in the periodic table? Who knew? He sure didn’t, although that may have had to do with the fact that he’d stumbled straight out onto the balcony, tripped over the rail, and found himself with a face full of bushes. Because, y’know, his day couldn’t get any weirder.

One new suit and a banished brigadier general later, he’d made his way down to the ceremony with his misgivings about what happened _after_ safely tucked away where they wouldn’t bother him for a while. Oh, and some ominous metallic grinding noises in his auto-mail. Couldn’t forget about that.

In terms of distractions, Ed had been granted the greatest one there was: Winry walking down that aisle in a dress she’d gotten just for him. Because he’d _asked_ her, and she’d said _yes_. For some reason he would probably never be able to fathom, she’d agreed to saddle herself to him and exchange half of her life for half of his. Well, they were still having a hard time agreeing on the math; Winry was no alchemist, that was for sure. Even so, thoughts of equivalent exchange and pretty much everything else had melted away at the absolute vision she was as she’d approached him. There was nothing delicate about it. The dress hadn’t been all flowers and girly frills, just like the backyard where they’d played together as kids hadn’t been filled to the brim with flowers that would just die in a few days. Even the rings he could hardly believe they were wearing hadn’t been adorned with any extra, useless _stuff_.

And that was what had made it perfect.

Mustang would probably never let him live it down, but Ed wasn’t (too) ashamed to say that he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her all day. The ceremony, the dinner, the party—it was all a Winry-shaped blur that had passed so quickly that he distantly wondered where the time had gone. Why was the world so unfair as to prolong the hours you suffered through and steal the ones that brought you the most joy before you’d truly gotten a chance to appreciate them?

Then, the house was empty. The gifts had all been opened; the food had all been eaten. Their guests had gone home, and Granny had opted to stay with Al and Mei at the sole inn their town had to offer so that they had the place all to themselves for the night.

_All…to ourselves… Yeah… Great…_

So far, that hadn’t turned out so spectacularly. It wasn’t like they were fighting or anything, but… Well, it was just that Mustang’s congratulations and significant glance when he’d departed appeared to have been misplaced.

 _“Fullmetal, you_ do _know what typically happens on your wedding night, don’t you?”_

Ed cringed, hunching his shoulders up around his ears and attempting to shake the brigadier general’s words out of his head. This was so _not_ the time for him to be there.

Not when he and Winry had occupied opposite corners of the mattress for about an hour without speaking.

What was he supposed to do? Should he say something? Should he wait for _her_ to say something? And what was he going to do if she was holding out for _him_ to make the first move?! What even _was_ the first move?

Maybe he should simply be blunt about it. Winry would expect that sort of thing from him, right? It wasn’t like she had no idea who she’d married or anything, so getting a firsthand look at how utterly lost he was when it came to… _this_ shouldn’t be a surprise. The direct approach was probably the best, all things considered.

 _This is nothing_ , he thought as he forced himself to peer over his shoulder at his…his wife. Who was currently sitting with her back to him, staring in the other direction.

Ed swallowed. Hard.

_Yeah, this is nothing. I can just ask if she wants to… I mean, I can just tell her I’d like… Uh… Or maybe I could…_

Would it be too tactless to suggest that they merely get this over with?

The mental image of Winry’s sturdiest wrench beating him into unconsciousness on their wedding night told him that yeah, that would be the opposite of helpful. But he could do this. He was Edward Elric, for heaven’s sake!

And Edward Elric desperately wished that a homunculus would come crashing into the bedroom right about now so that he wouldn’t have to figure out where to go from here.

 

***

 

If Ed glanced over his shoulder at her one more time without saying anything, Winry thought she might just spend their wedding night beating him into unconsciousness.

 _As if I’m one to talk_ , she laughed inwardly, although it was a brittle sensation. Ever since they’d retired to her bedroom for the night, she’d been wondering how to approach the subject of…well, _that_. From the looks of it, Ed was having similar trouble. That or he was simply theorizing about something like the alchemy freak he was and always would be. That was always a distinct possibility.

Except she had a feeling that that wasn’t what kept him on the opposite side of the mattress looking like he might bolt from the room if she so much as breathed in his general direction. His shoulders were so tense that she was glad he didn’t have an auto-mail arm anymore: his muscles would be sore enough in the morning without the added weight of the metal. Part of her wanted to say something; her fingers twitched as though they, too, would like to reach out and let him know that he wasn’t the only one who had no clue what they were supposed to be doing now that they were married. Now that he was…her husband.

Her… _husband_.

_I married Ed._

It was hard to believe, especially after all they’d gone through to get to this point. They were here, though, and there was a whole world waiting for them on the other side of their wedding day.

But first, they had to get through their wedding _night_.

What was she supposed to do? Should she say something? Should she wait for _him_ to say something? And what was she going to do if he was holding out for _her_ to make the first move?! What even _was_ the first move?

Auto-mail was so much easier than…whatever this was. At least with her work, she had Granny to ask for advice. However, the moment for that had passed in this instance, and she would have been too embarrassed to bother even if it hadn’t. Logically, she knew that this wasn’t anything new or special; her parents, her grandparents, and billions of other people around the world had gone through it. If they hadn’t, Winry wouldn’t be here. Ed wouldn’t be here.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

_Come on. Just do something! It’s not like he’s going to freak out. You’ve known each other forever._

That still didn’t make it any easier to face the man she’d chosen to marry without really considering what they were going to do in the immediate aftermath. But she was Winry Rockbell—Winry _Elric_ —renowned auto-mail mechanic and wife of the youngest state alchemist in history. Nothing could stand in her way.

So, she took a deep breath, steadied herself, mustered her resolve—

And froze.

Because Ed had apparently chosen the same moment to move, and their eyes met from across the bed, his just as wide and uncertain as she assumed her own were.

The spell didn’t last for more than a second before Ed whipped back around and appeared for all the world like he wanted to find the biggest, heaviest rock to crawl under for the rest of eternity. That wasn’t what got Winry on her feet, though.

“What was that?” she demanded, hands clenched into tight fists on her hips. She wouldn’t say that she was looming over him per se, but there was a definite glimmer of fear in his eyes as they darted between her face and the toolbox she always stored in the corner of her bedroom.

 _Our bedroom_ , a voice in the depths of her consciousness whispered. Winry shunted it aside for now. This wasn’t personal—this was business.

“What was what?” murmured Ed with a guilty glance at his leg. Oh, yeah. He’d definitely heard it too.

Her glare must have intensified at his deliberately obtuse answer, because his face paled when she pointed at his hidden auto-mail and practically shouted, “ _That_.”

But this was Ed she was talking about, and it would have been entirely out of character for him to own up to whatever stupid thing he’d done to damage her work this time.

“It’s called a leg.”

“You know what I’m talking about, Edward!” Winry exploded, diving to grab his ankle before he could do more than shout in surprise. “What did you _do_ to it?!”

Flapping his arms at her ineffectually, Ed argued, “I didn’t do anything! Would’ja get offa me?!”

Well, the answer to that would be a resounding _no_ when she could find her voice again. Perhaps she would use her wrench to emphasize her point, as well. There were so many options for how she could pay her husband back for the utter _mess_ he’d made of his leg.

Again _._

It was a very good thing that the house was empty, because Winry didn’t want any witnesses for this.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” she shrieked, pointing at the dented steel plates of his leg with a trembling finger. “I just finished your maintenance last week!”

All of the awkwardness of the last hour forgotten, Ed folded his arms over his chest and muttered, “Must not’ve done it ri—YAGH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”

“DON’T YOU TELL ME IT WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH! THAT LEG WAS FLAWLESS!”

“OBVIOUSLY NOT FLAWLESS ENOUGH IF IT COULDN’T FALL OUT A WINDOW WITHOUT BREAKING!”

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING JUMPING OUT OF WINDOWS?!”

Ed opened his mouth, seemed to think better of answering that, and closed it with a snap. The way he rubbed the back of his neck in bashful silence reminded her of when they were little. She’d lost count of how many times he’d broken something and come crawling to her for help with his tail between his legs, looking exactly the same as he did perched on the edge of the mattress. On their wedding night.

As her husband.

_I guess some things will never change._

That was all right, though. There were some things that, although she’d never admit it aloud, she had no desire to change. Who Ed was, imperfections and attitude included, was at the very top of that list.

Her talent at guilt-tripping him was a close second.

Sighing, Winry shook her head and set about retrieving her tools from beneath her desk. “Honestly, Ed, you need to start taking better care of your auto-mail.”

There was a slight pause before he replied lightheartedly, “What for when I’ve got you around to fix me up?”

It was a subtle concession, an apology mixed with the admission of an emotion he very rarely put into words. That wasn’t unexpected, however. It had been hard enough for him to kiss her in front of all those people in the yard today. The blush that had darkened his cheeks when they’d pulled apart would be seared into her memory forever, just like the warmth of his hand when it had gripped hers far too tightly at dinner. He’d never needed words to tell Winry that he loved her, but the ones he did find more than made up for his vocal reluctance. His certainty that she would always be there to take care of _him_ and not just his auto-mail? It told her everything she needed to know.

Winry found it more difficult to keep the smile off her face after that, so she threw herself into her work with renewed vigor in order to hide her expression from Ed’s all too sharp gaze. It really was a blessing that he could be so painfully oblivious sometimes.

“If you keep jumping out of windows for no reason, I’ll _stop_ fixing you up and you’ll have to get around with broken auto-mail.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Sure, I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It’s against some kind of gearhead code or something.”

Snorting, Winry replied, “What would an alchemy freak know about _gearhead code_?”

With his trademark grin, Ed leaned back on his palms and casually mused, “Alchemists have equivalent exchange. We trade o—”

“One thing for another of equal value,” she recited, rolling her eyes. They’d had this conversation often enough that Ed didn’t hold it against her.

“Exactly. Alchemists accept that you can’t do anything without giving up something else. It’s the same with mechanics. You can’t make auto-mail without the materials, right?”

“We’re not talking about materials, Ed. We’re talking about you never taking care of them!”

“I was getting to tha—GYAH! You did that on purpose!”

Winry innocently glanced up from where she’d been tightening his nerve connections and shrugged. “Did not.”

“Did too,” he grumbled, flopping back on the bed so she couldn’t see his face. “Anyway, you gearheads get people on their feet. In exchange, they pay you, but that’s not really what you’re in it for.”

Pausing with her pliers hovering in the air over Ed’s metal knee, Winry gently pressed her free hand against the scratched steel of his calf and asked, “Oh, really. Then why do we do it?”

“Because it feels good to help other people, and…and give them back something that they’ve lost. Sure, the cens are great and all, but you don’t just hand over an arm or a leg. What you make becomes a part of who they are.” Ed hesitated a moment. The reticence rolling off him was nearly tangible, but he nevertheless plowed forward so quietly that she could barely hear him. “ _You_ become a part of who they are. And that’s a lot better than equivalent exchange.”

For the second time since she’d discovered that he had damaged his auto-mail, Winry was glad that Ed couldn’t see her face. The long day was finally starting to get to her, and she didn’t have the energy to hide the blurry wetness that gathered at the bottom of her vision. That, in any case, was her excuse. It had nothing to do with the fact that they weren’t talking about some gearhead code anymore. Not at all.

“Well, then,” she eventually replied when she thought her voice wouldn’t betray the sudden surge of emotion that only Ed had ever truly been able to inspire, “I guess my hands are tied. I’ll just keep having to fix you up whenever you break.”

The smile in his voice was audible when he sighed, “Yeah. Guess you will.”

And that was exactly what she did—on their wedding night.

The silence that stretched between them wasn’t tense and complicated the way it had been before. Instead, the anxious apprehension that had settled over both of them dissipated into something more comfortable, something so familiar that it felt like coming home. They didn’t need words or to talk about whatever it was that they probably should have been doing tonight. The gentle tinkling of metal against metal spoke volumes on its own, and despite how the evening had begun, Winry was genuinely glad that it had ended up like this. Maybe repairing Ed’s auto-mail as she always did would even open the door that neither of them had been able to pry loose on their own before.

Then again, as she’d pondered earlier, some things simply never changed.

By the time Winry was confident that Ed’s leg wouldn’t give him any trouble in the morning, his gentle snores filled the room, and she poked her head over the edge of the mattress to see that he was sound asleep. One arm sprawled over his head. The other draped over his bare stomach, rucking his shirt up to his chest. It was honestly the most ridiculous sight Winry had ever been graced with.

It was the sight she’d be graced with every morning for the rest of their lives. And that was fine by her, because in the crook of his elbow, there was still plenty of room to snuggle close and rest her head on his chest. Because a tiny smile unconsciously stretched across his lips when she pecked his cheek and whispered what he’d been trying to say all night. Because when his arm wrapped her in his warmth and his scent, she was home without needing anything more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> For more on Fullmetal Alchemist, my writing, and other assorted geekery, check out my [Tumblr](https://theasset6.tumblr.com/)!


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